The View From Here
by EleventhGurl
Summary: Kick him in his shin, hit him on his chest, and cry in front of him. Those were what Sakura Haruno did when she found out that her supposed friend was actually the long lost Prince of Konoha. SasuSaku. AU.
1. PROLOGUE: Where Is Your Boy

PROLOGUE  
_Where is your boy tonight?_

Music was like a little escape place for twenty-one year-old Sakura Haruno. Whenever she wanted to get away from the prying hands of her parents, or from the curious eyes of onlookers, or from the thoughts of one handsome and socially-retarded royalty, she would go out for a walk, plug her ears with earphones, and silently listen to Fall Out Boy songs or We The Kings songs or All Time Low songs like no one else cared.

She would walk and walk and walk and listen and listen and listen, and avoid the curious eyes of passersby around her. That night, like the few nights prior, was escape time for her.

Today, though, she was not keen on escaping the prying hands of her parents, the curious eyes of onlookers, or even the thought of the handsome and socially-retarded royalty of whom she grew to like... or love. What she wanted to escape from were the calculating stares of everyone around her, all judging her from something she had no hold of.

She sucked in a breath, the cold breeze of nearing winter burning in her lungs. The weeks before were stressful, what with the _national TV_, of all things, following her every move. What was more was the disapproving gaze the handsome and socially-retarded royalty's father had given her one time.

Had she done something _wrong_?

OK, so maybe going _inside_ the Royal Mansion was one thing, but the freaking Crown Prince of the whole Konohagakure practically invited her. She had been invited inside so many times that even everyone else working for the family already knew her. And it was not like they were doing anything wrong, either! Idiot Naruto was there (so maybe the Crown Prince had somehow rubbed off on her...) and also the Prince's creepy cousin, Sai!

The song _Grand Theft Autumn (Where Is Your Boy)_ by Fall Out Boy was beginning to play when she began to notice the people around her pause from their strides and look at something behind her. Or _at_ her, she just was not sure.

Maybe they had recognized her as the girl on TV every single day, as the girl who the King of the whole country took a seemingly particular dislike. Or maybe the pink hair. Or maybe the fact that she was the only one who kept on walking while they all stilled on one spot.

So Sakura paused, and realized that _hey_, they were not looking at her. They were looking at somebody else. Checking the people's expressions, she came up with a conclusion of who they were looking at. It was not great.

Because the conclusion set her heart in an unrelenting pace.

Sakura spun on her heels, her heartbeat thudding loudly against her ears, and thought that she was, indeed, right. The people's hanging jaws were dead giveaways, but what really made her certain were the admiring gazes. Hanging jaws plus admiration were quite exclusive for only one person.

_Prince Sasuke Uchiha of Konohagakure_.

And he was staring at her like he _longed for her_. Like he wanted her to _return_ to him when... when in the first place, _had she been his_? It was as if she was boring holes into her soul, burning every other thought from her head but those about _him_.

"Sakura," the handsome _and_ socially-retarded Prince called out in that charming and dizzying voice of his. Even with earphones in her ears, the loud and blaring sounds of _Grand Theft Autumn_ playing against her ears, she could still hear his voice with utmost clarity.

The young woman stilled, but when the Prince took one more step toward her, his hand reaching out, she took an automatic step back, surprising not only herself, but the Prince, too. The surprised gaze he sent her almost made her heart skip a beat, if it were not because of the overwhelming presence he had on her.

"Y-Your Highness," Sakura greeted nevertheless, her eyes scanning the crowd around them. She realized that the Prince's personal bodyguards were already around them in circles, holding back the mobs of people from getting to the royalty. "Y-You shouldn't be here."

And _the_ gaze was back. Like he wanted her. Like he lov—

_Don't even dare go there, Sakura_. She inhaled. _Stop at your own risk_.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and Sakura was heavily reminded of why she was taking a walk in a cold November night, listening to Fall Out Boy songs, and trying to forget the world for a few minutes... or an hour.

She was greatly reminded of how she did not deserve the cold, strong hand that suddenly took hers in a strong, possessive grip, or of how flashes of camera were practically everywhere as people took pictures of the Prince _and_ herself. Sakura was greatly reminded of how the King Fugaku Uchiha of Konohagakure judged her without fully knowing her, or of the pitying looks the Queen Mikoto had sent her way.

But with Prince Sasuke's cold hand engulfing hers, and with the small tug he did as he pulled her against him...

Sakura realized that she could care less about all those things.

_You were the last good thing about this part of town_.

**Disclaimers:  
**Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto  
Grand Theft Autumn (Where Is Your Boy) © Fall Out Boy  
Fall Out Boy  
We The Kings  
All Time Low

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Eek. I just tried. I don't even know if it's worthy of continuing. Heh.**


	2. CHAPTER 1: Swing, Swing

CHAPTER I  
_Do you know what it feels like being alone?_

It had been a day before the breakout of a horrible news that made the whole country of Konohagakure mourn that Sasuke Hatake and Sakura Haruno had sat on one corner of an empty classroom and talked about anything that had come into their minds. Sakura, for one, would not forget that afternoon.

She was a second year high school student in Konoha Academy of the Arts and Sciences, sixteen, and was playing the role of Vice-President for the student government. Sakura did not particularly like the job, but was inwardly glad that the general population of the school thought her capable of the responsibility. She was, on the other hand, really happy that she got to work next to the student government President, Sasuke Hatake, who was then in his senior year.

Sasuke was known not only because of his aristocratic and handsome looks, but because of his genius and apparent flair in almost everything he did. Sakura really admired how he managed to capture the attention and respect of every student in the academy despite the notoriety of his social skills.

From what she had gathered in the two years that she had stayed in the Academy, Sasuke had been brought up in an orphanage since he was a baby. No one knew of his origin, and it was when he was twelve years old that someone—a teacher in the Academy, Mr. Kakashi Hatake—took him in. She concluded that the sadness of growing up with no real family was what prompted Sasuke to act coldly to the people around him, despite the case being limited to only a few people.

Sasuke could hardly be seen conversing with anyone, and Sakura really liked the fact that of all girls in the academy? He talked to her the most.

"Sakura."

Sakura was heading toward her classroom, carrying a stack of journals, when the aforementioned boy called her. School was over for the day, and most of the students had either gone to their respective clubs or had decided to go home.

"Oh, Sasuke," she greeted back, shifting the journals uncomfortably on her arms. She sent the boy a smile and asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I was wondering if you have finished with the papers on the audited club fees," Sasuke told her. A guitar was strapped against his back, and he shifted it so he could help her with the journals. "I assume you haven't."

Sakura chuckled, blushing, and handed him half of what she was carrying. "Er, yeah. I'm sorry about that. I kind of had to stop by the teachers' lounge for some errands."

"Hn."

It was comforting—the silence she always experienced whenever she was with him. As they walked toward Sakura's classroom, she took note of the regal atmosphere that seemed to surround Sasuke. He stood tall and dignified and Sakura could already get why many girls liked to call him "Prince".

His eerie resemblance to the members of the royal family of Konohagakure from the Uchiha clan also tended to weird out Sakura. Sometimes, Sakura spent sleepless nights wondering: what if her upperclassman was actually part of the royal family? After all, he looked like he was part of it, only that he grew up away from them.

She shook away all thoughts about this, though, after watching Sasuke live life like any ordinary person, enjoying the freedom despite what his emotions showed.

"Here," said Sakura, telling the older student where to place the journals. She grinned up to him and continued, "Thank you for the help!"

"Hn," muttered Sasuke. He looked out the windows of the classroom, and Sakura felt her breath hitch in her throat when the orange light coming from the setting sun illuminated half of his face.

He looked so peaceful, so at ease, and so _fitting_ to be ordinary that Sakura could not stop herself from asking him, "Have you ever wondered what kind of people your parents could be?"

Black eyes turned to look at her sharply, and Sakura, blushing already from the roots of her hair, immediately made up for the embarrassment, "It's just like a rhetoric question, Sasuke. You don't really have to answer."

_Rhetoric question, my ass_, thought Sakura, inwardly berating herself.

She watched as Sasuke take off the black jacket to their uniform, the Academy emblem imprinted on the left-chest side. He was left in his white polo and blue-and-silver-striped necktie. Silently, he set his guitar on the floor by the window and sat there, leaning his back on the adjacent wall.

He looked up at Sakura and patted the space beside him.

"I—uh," Sakura stammered, sending a look at the open door. When she concluded that no one could possibly see them, she took the space he was patting.

If somebody saw them together in an empty classroom, rumors could start immediately. It wasn't that Sakura did not like the thought of _being_ together _with_ him—she merely feared how Sasuke would fair with the irrational gossip.

She settled silently beside him, liking the warmth his body exuded.

"I know of this kid," Sasuke began, and Sakura flushed for the umpteenth time that afternoon after realizing that Sasuke was _going to open up_, "whose mother hardly had the time for him, and whose father hated him."

Sakura gasped. "No father could truly _hate_ his child! Whatever the reas—"

Sasuke raised an eyebrow at her, apparently amused at her sudden outburst. Another set of red blush crept upon her cheeks and she pursed her lips together, mimicking zipping up something.

"This kid... he was all smiles back then," continued Sasuke, now fumbling with the case of his guitar. "He would smile at everyone he knew of and he wouldn't let that smile falter. One time, he showed me a picture of his parents, and everyone who saw was apparently astounded of how beautiful both of his parents were."

Sasuke paused, and when he didn't look like he was going to continue, Sakura urged him to. "What happened then?"

"He told us stuff about his parents... about his father, particularly." Sasuke took out his guitar from its case and settled it on his lap. He absent-mindedly strummed the strings. "He told us how much he loved his father even though the father hardly regarded him. The kid said that he loved him... even though his father could _not_ remember him."

"At all?"

"At all," Sasuke confirmed.

Sakura frowned. "But that's impossible! Why would a father forget about his own son?"

Sasuke shook his head and answered, "This kid told us that his father hated him so much that he forced himself to forget about him... and sent him to the orphanage where we met."

Sakura's eyes widened and she did not know what to say. She was not sure if Sasuke was telling the truth or making things up, but she felt like the story held a strong part of him. He had grown up with no parents at all, so this story must be _something_.

"Apparently, his mother could not do anything about it," continued Sasuke when Sakura did not speak. "His mother loved his father so much that she would rather risk losing the kid altogether than to lose the father at all. It was insane, but the father had a greater hold on the mother."

Sakura felt sadness engulf her. "That's... that's just morbid."

"That's when I thought that I'd rather not know about my parents at all," Sasuke concluded, giving the pink-haired girl a smirk.

That was the first time Sasuke had ever told Sakura anything—somewhat opening up a bottled up part of him—and Sakura thought that she wanted a repeat of this afternoon, that many more afternoons like this come their way. The soft smirk he had sent her way was heartwarming and made her feel like she had wormed her way into him somehow, and she just knew that she would not trade that heartwarming feeling for the world.

Sakura was not finished with the afternoon and she knew that she just _had_ to ask, "What if one day someone claims you to be theirs? What about Mr. Kakashi? Wasn't he like the father figure to you?"

Sakura did not receive any response from him after that. He was absent-mindedly strumming on his guitar, playing a set of chords that somehow felt familiar to her. Black eyes bore on her and she grinned.

"I know that song!"

Sasuke blinked and raised an eyebrow. Sasuke knew how to play guitar—_she liked guys who played the guitar_. Sakura, herself, was a guitarist, occasionally playing the drums, and watching Sasuke first hand as he played the instrument—it _awed_ her.

She only heard stuff about Sasuke being able to play the said musical instrument, but no one ever heard him play it. People only saw him carrying the instrument behind his back, but he neither denied nor affirmed about his knowledge on playing it. The students knew that Sasuke played many different instruments, though, having performed some few times in school, but _guitar_...

For Sakura, it said a lot.

It surprised her further when Sasuke _sang_. He sang while his eyes were trained on her, and he sang while his fingers unconsciously placed themselves on different strings to form the needed chords. Sakura felt that her breath was practically knocked off her.

"Days swiftly come and go, I'm dreaming of her—"

He had this handsome voice that surprisingly did not make her blush, but made her _look_ at him. Because he was _looking_ at her.

"—she's seeing other guys, emotions they stir. The sun is gone, the nights are long, and I am left while the tears fall."

Sakura gave him a soft smile and leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes, and joining him in singing to the song he played. She would not forget that afternoon.

The pink-haired teenager walked home happily, occasionally _waltzing_ on her way. She ignored the people watching her weirdly because she just knew that nothing could dampen her happy disposition around that time.

The rest of the afternoon before she had decided to walk home, Sasuke had played his guitar with different songs while Sakura sang to them. She would occasionally berate Sasuke whenever he used the wrong chords, making it known to the boy that Sakura, herself, was knowledgeable in the field of music.

Sakura let a blush paint on her cheeks when she remembered what Sasuke had told her while smirking, "More afternoons like this would be nice."

Sakura giggled when she realized that they had shared the same sentiments.

She failed to realize that she forgot to reiterate her final question to Sasuke, or that Sasuke had murmured his answer the moment she decided to leave and didn't hear him.

The next day, the flags of Konohagakure everywhere in the country were raised in half-mast, signifying the mourning of all Konoha citizens. Sakura blinked as she watched the morning news, listening as it said of the death of the country's Crown Prince, Prince Itachi Uchiha.

But it was not the death that had her head reeling with thoughts. It was the fact that as she stared at the face of the royalty on the television's screen, she was vaguely reminded of a certain boy who was raised up in an orphanage.

**Disclaimers:  
**Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto  
Swing, Swing © The All American Rejects  
The All American Rejects


End file.
